


Forever

by charis_chan



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Study, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 03:43:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11774781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charis_chan/pseuds/charis_chan
Summary: You love her.You need her.She is yours.And you are hers.Forever.





	Forever

Lying is hard.

Lying implies deceiving.

Lying implies cheating.

Lying implies hurting.

Lying implies tainting yourself.

Lying implies creating shadows.

Lying implies creating monsters.

It implies making yourself into something you are not.

It implies making up another reality.

It implies disappointing those you love.

Hence, you don’t lie.

At least, you don’t lie to the one that matters the most.

XxXxX

She arrived when you were fifteen and she was thirteen.

Sisters, they said.

Protector and protégé.

Same last name. Same room. Same school. Same friends.

But.

They didn’t know. Sisters never fit.

No.

You were more than that. You bond grander than familial love.

Soulmates, that’s what you were.

That’s what you still are.

Same last name, yes. Out of a ritual bonding you did the day you celebrated your first year together.

Same room, yes. But also, same bed, same pillow, same blanket, same breathe.

Same school, yes. She skipped ahead so you could take the same classes, do the same homework, share the same locker, eat at the same table.

Same friends, yes. But, not really. They were your friends, but they didn’t matter. You’d hang out with them, yes, but so you could hang out with her in public without being judged.

Your parents were so happy, so proud.

Sometimes.

Others, “You have to protect her.” “You should know better.” “She’s yours to take care.” “You are better than this.” “You should strive higher.”

After your dad died, it was always, “I raised you better than this.” “I had such hope in you.” “I thought you wanted more.” “You’re dragging her down.”

Graduation came and you were pulled in different directions. Or, rather, you pushed her away.

“We need time. We need space. It’s not healthy,” you defended.

She scoffed. “You’ll make us sick. We need to be together.”

But, your mother was right. She had so much potential and you were dragging her down.

You were ready to die for her. You were ready to suffer for her. You were ready to do anything to see her raise above.

To this day you can still feel her handprint on your cheek. It’s a phantom pain you can’t shake off, you can’t get rid of. The first time she hit you still carries with you.

And out of spite… out of anger, out of pain, out of revenge… she punished you, leaving you to be alone for years, leaving you to scrap by for years, leaving you to try and fend for yourself while she did what you wanted the most: she shone.

And you? You ended up in a holding cell, underage, drunk out of your ass and with a job proposal you couldn’t refuse. With a future ahead of yourself you didn’t ask for. With a weight on your shoulders you think you’d gotten rid of.

And you? You called her the next morning, crying and vomiting and choking on your spit. You called her begging for forgiveness, begging for a second chance, begging for her, begging for her tenderness, for her care, for her smile, for her light, for her love. You called her confessing you couldn’t say no to Hank, confessing you flunked all your exams, confessing you where miserable without her, confessing you couldn’t stand a second more of this agony.

And her?

She never picked up.

XxXxX

Time passes.

Wounds heal.

Pain ease.

Fears die.

Yet regrets grow.

XxXxX

You did your work. You hunt down the aliens. You tagged them. You bagged them.

You learnt to be on the field. You learnt to be in the lab. You learnt to shoot. You learnt to heal.

You woke up. You trained. You worked. You slept.

Over and over and over again.

You became a pale image of your former self.

You think you became a better version of yourself.

And you followed her from afar, the new journalist star, Cat Grant’s successor, National City’s sweetheart.

You followed her from afar, the new actor’s lover, poised to be married within the year, the prize winner, the woman everybody wanted to be like.

You followed from afar, waiting for the day the selfless girl you once knew came around once more.

It took a long time, yes, but she came back.

The mystery hero that saved a plane from crashing. The dark shadow no one could identify. National City’s own super. Cat Grant’s own brand.

But, Hank was not happy. The president was not happy. You weren’t happy.

You weren’t happy when they sent you to hunt her down. To tag her. To bag her.

It’d been such a long time, you knew your face was long gone from her mind. It’d been such a long time, you knew she didn’t care. It’s been such a long time the scar on your wrist, made the day you became hers, she became yours, had faded into almost nothingness.

(I swear to you my breath, my heart, my life, my soul. I swear to you my all, my whole, my entire devotion and my complete love.)

And Kara, oh, Kara. Still naïve, still over confident, still so sure her powers would save her from everything.

Dragging her into the DEO was easy. She was injured, overly tired, weak. She was confused, hurting and in pain.

Your first encounter with her in over eight years happened with her cuffed down and under a solar lamp.

It’d been a while since you felt anything other than emptiness, other than pain. Other than utter regret and agonizing misery.

It’d been a while since you last saw her, your hair was shorter, a scar ruined your cheek, your eyes were hollow and you’re two sizes too thin.

And still, she recognized you.

“A-Alex?”

You didn’t move. Your orders were to stand still, stand guard for prisoner 626, make sure it didn’t run away, make sure to shoot it down once again if it came to it.

You didn’t talk. You’ve lost the will to a year ago. A rough alien, a torturer, a monster, got its claws on you and made you scream for days at an end. When they got you back they healed your skin, but your spirit never recovered from it and your voice died with the bastard.

“Alex?”

“Danvers.” You stood to attention as Hank came in. He’s looking at you with narrowed eyes, but you never flinch. “Go rest.”

You didn’t look back, you didn’t turn around. You didn’t answer to her call.

How could you? How could you go back and taint her again? Taint her with what you’ve become?

She’s doing great for herself. She’s doing what she’s always done best. She’s doing what she was meant to do: shine with the force of thousand suns.

XxXxX

You second encounter happens a week later. Supergirl was now on the DEO’s payroll.

You were assigned to her team. You were assigned to take point, to lead, to make sure everyone made it back.

Supergirl made it so hard.

She kept being reckless, she kept throwing herself to the threat, she kept putting herself and the others at risk.

And even so, when she was the one responsible for the injuries, for the attacker’s escape, for the collapse of a building, old habits die hard.

When you saw her lying still, rubble threatening to bury her alive, you reacted. You ran to her, you tried to drag her away and you ended up shielding her unconscious form with your body when the roof fell on you.

You woke up five days later in the hospital, with a new scar on your body and a bouquet of flowers with no name, just a phone number. A phone number you know by heart.

And still, the only thing you could think was, why it couldn’t be finally over.

XxXxX

The third encounter happened on the DEO’s backyard.

The president wanted to test some or other arm and who better to test it than the Girl of Steel, who, coincidently, is a government employee.

“You changed your last name,” she said.

You nodded.

“Why?”

You stared.

How could you possibly explain that even thinking on your real last name made your heart bleed, your gut twist, your lungs fail?

How could you possibly explain that the only times you allowed yourself to whisper it was when you’re so drunk, so gone, so numb, that it didn’t kill you inside?

How could you possibly explain that thinking of yourself as Alexandra Zor-El made you physically ill with guilt and pain?

Even then, thinking on why you couldn’t explain it, you felt faint, you felt like running, you felt like shutting down, like killing yourself.

You won’t ever lie to her, it goes beyond what you are, but that day you almost did.

“Don’t bother,” Lane junior said. She knows who you were, once upon a time, of what you were, before you fucked it up. Of what makes your skin crawl. “She won’t talk.”

“Why?”

Lucy stared deep into your vacant eyes and smiled sadly. She’s been there to rescue you, she’s been there to help you through the worst of it. She helped with the drinking, with the cutting, with the invasive thoughts. “She won’t.”

XxXxX

The fourth encounter happened in the dark, in the middle of the night.

She found you in the barracks.

You don’t sleep, not much at least.

That night was no different.

You were dozing one moment and you were alert the next. One moment you were sitting against the cold wall, a blanket thrown across your lap and the next you were up, ready to fight.

“Wow, Alex, easy. It’s me, Kara. Relax.”

Still, you didn’t relax. You lowered your fists, but you didn’t unclench them.

“Vasquez said I could find you here, that you don’t go home often.”

No, you don’t.

You’ve left home eight years ago. You’ve pushed home away eight years ago. You’ve broken your heart eight years ago and you didn’t have a home to return to.

“Can we talk?”

Your head lulled to the side, a clear indication that you didn’t care.

“Come on, Al, please.”

“…”

Her hands gripped her hair in frustration. “Damn it, Alex! I’m trying to talk!”

After the last five years her loudness barely bothers you.

“Fine,” she huffed. “At least tell me how in Rao’s name you ended up here?”

That cut through your chest. Any little hope you still held died that day. As if you didn’t call her, as if you didn’t ask for help, as if you didn’t beg. As if you didn’t hurt all those years ago.

As if she didn’t already know how in Rao’s name you ended up there.

You turned to leave but she was in your face in a second. “Damn it! You don’t get to run away!” Her grip on your biceps was strong enough to bruise, but you never flinched. “Tell me!”

You stared.

“Alex!”

“Supergirl.” Hank’s voice was never more welcomed than then. “I suggest you let go of Agent Danvers. She’s needed in bay three.”

Kara let you go and you promptly left.

You didn’t need any of them being witness of the tears running down your cheeks.

XxXxX

She avoided you after that.

She got assigned another team.

She made a name for herself.

She rose above the stars.

XxXxX

Looking back, it wouldn’t have surprised you she came like this.

The alerts of a rouge Supergirl reached you but your team no longer was in charge of her. Your job was elsewhere and as long as you weren’t given the go, you couldn’t engage.

And still, she found you.

“Alexandra,” her cold voice chilled you to the bones.

The first night you went to your apartment in a month and she decided to drop by.

You deftly bit onto your cheek, where the emergency beckon was sewn years ago. Sweet blood filled your mouth. The DEO was to arrive in under five minutes.

It was time to stall.

“What?” Kara mocked. “Alien got your tongue?”

Shit, someone had talked.

She scoffed. “Of course, you were always so weak, so pathetic. So stupid to let me go.”

You nod. You needed to keep her talking.

She pinned you to the wall in a blink, a hand closing on your throat. “Alexandra Zor-El. My pitiful wife.” Her hot fingers caressed your cheek. “How low have you fallen, my star.”

You closed your eyes. It’d been years since you were called that.

Her wife.

Her star.

“Tell me, Alexandra. How is to know you’ve lost perfection? How is to know you’ve walked away from the sun? Uh? How is to know that you’ll never get it back?”

It’s awful. It’s hard. It’s painful. It’s heart wrenching. It’s regret. It’s remorse. It’s penitence. It’s weakness. It’s loss. It’s abysm. It’s death.

“Oh, right. You pathetic little shit, you thought you were doing me a favor. Me. You thought letting me go would somehow make you a better person.” Her hand tightened on your throat. “You, my wife, promised to love me forever. You, my wife, used me and casted me aside!”

You’d like to deny that, but she was right. You casted her aside. Good intentions or not.  You hurt her and you are still paying the price.

You claw at her hand on instinct, the air getting hard to get. She grabbed your wrist then, looking intently at the thin pale line craved on it.

“Do you remember how hard it was for us to find that little piece of Kryptonite so we could cut my skin? Do you remember the razor’s pain? Do you remember how our bloods mixed together?” Her thumb pressed on the scar. “The reds were so pretty. Do you remember?”

Of course you remembered.

It’s a sight that never left you. Her with her white gown, you with your black one. Her with her hair up, you with yours down. Her with the knife in hand, cutting you down.  You with the Kryptonite blade, returning the favor in kind.

Every time you try to sleep, that’s the fist thing that comes to mind.

Her thumb kept caressing but her hold, on both your wrist and your neck got stronger.

“I’m going to marry Adam,” she said casually and it shouldn’t stung like that. “He’s a good fuck. Better than you, that’s for sure. And his mom is my boss, so when she dies I’ll keep the empire for myself.” Her grip on your wrist hurt but you didn’t make a sound. The moment the bone snapped, you barely flinched.  “Aren’t you happy, Alexandra? I’ll be what you ever wanted. The best.”

Sweat gathered at your brow. The pain was blinding, but you’d had worse.

“But I guess I owe you a thank you. If you didn’t leave, I’d never find out I never loved you.” She leaned closer to you, sharing your breath. “That you were never as perfect as I thought. I could’ve never seen how useless you are. How stupid too. You helped relieve an itch, nothing more, nothing else.”

Rao. That hurt.

She licked the sweat from your cheek, finally getting a rise from you.

You whined.

You fucking whined, recalling the last time you were in a position such at this one. Recalling the last time someone made you hate their touch, their smell, their sight.

You can’t believe you felt all that with Kara. With sweet, soft Kara.

She hesitated a second, confused and frozen.

Light filled your house then. Gas grenades were thrown into the room. A eerie green glow invaded the place and Kara suddenly let go.  

The cavalry had arrived.

XxXxX

And now you sit in the med bay. Your arm in a sling and your heart laid on the sun bed, soaking up the energy whatever gun they made stole.

Skin cancer is a high risk, sitting as close as you are, but it hardly matters. You’ve brushed with death several times and the bastard still refuses to take you.

Dying of cancer would be anticlimactic after everything you’ve done, but it’d be so welcomed.

Kara looks so small and so fragile. She looks like that little teen you met all those years ago. She looks like the girl you fell in love with, that tiny thing that saved a mother and her baby from dying in a fire.

She looks like your Kara.

But she isn’t yours anymore.

And you can’t bear telling yourself another lie.

You’ve never lied to her. Not when you pushed her away. Not when you told her you love her. Not when you insisted you went to different universities. Not when you promised your heart to her. Not when you told her what your new job was.

You’ve never lied to her.

But you’ve always lied to yourself.

When you thought you’d withstand the separation.  When you thought you’d be able to ace your schooling. When you thought you could get Kara back someday.  When you tell you self everyday that you are fine.

You can’t tell yourself another lie. You can’t tell yourself she still cares. You can’t tell yourself you have a chance.

And even so, you sit with her. Waiting for her to wake up. You know what it’s to wake hurt and confused and on your own. You don’t want her to feel like that. Like you’re forgotten, like you don’t matter.

Hours pass and you keep a hand on hers. You remember she used to like sleeping holding hands and even if that changed, you miss it.

And this is the last time you’ll be able to do it.

Hank is sending you away. You’ll go to a place where there’s no lab and there is war and maybe, maybe, this time you won’t come back.

Because Supergirl is useless with you around.

You won’t tell her, you can’t tell her, because you don’t lie to her, you’ve never had. You’ll never will now.

When her hand clenches on yours you take a moment to savor it before you let go. You keep still, waiting to see if the effects of the red kryptonite are gone. Waiting to see if she’ll attack or not. Waiting to see if she remembers or not.

“A-Alex?”

You nod.

You look down at her, seeing her confusion, seeing how her eyes flicker back and forth, side to side. How her eyes dawn on understanding. How her eyes fill with tears.

“Oh, my Rao. Alex!” She’s sobbing, her cheeks flushing, her nose running. “A-Alex, I’m so s-sorry. I didn’t-I didn’t mean it like that!”

But she did. The red kryptonite didn’t make up lies. It simply helped voice the truth.

That’s okay. More than okay.

You now know what she thinks of you and that lifts a weight off your chest.

To know she sees you exactly as you are. To know she knows what a sorry excuse of a being you are. To know she hates you as much as you hate yourself.

It really is a relief.

“W-What I said, Alex… I-I-I still love you, please, A-Alex, please, believe me! Believe that!” She curls up on the bed, facing you, pleading with you and you frown.

You don’t understand.

There’s a reason you used to avoid one another when you didn’t want to share something.

You’ve never lied to her. She’s never lied to you.

You couldn’t lie to one another, so it was better not to say anything. It was better to avoid, to keep quiet.

Even now. What she said earlier today is true. She’d never lie to you.

But.

What she’s saying right now is true too. You can see it in her eyes, you can feel it in your bones.

“W-When you walked away… W-When you left for such stu-stupid reasons, Alex, I was so angry. I was so-so angry I hated you. I want-wanted to hurt you. I-I… Alex… I ignored you. Oh, Rao, I ignored you for years!”

Yeah, she did. But so did you. You started this, it’s okay for her to hate you for it.

You hate you too.

“A-Alex…” You look into her eyes and your heart skips a beat, warming up. She’s looking at you how she used to years ago. Like if, somehow, she believed you hung the moon and the stars, like if, somehow, you made the sun shine for her.

Dear Rao, how you’ve missed that.

“Y-You called.” And just like that. Your heart freezes again. “Y-You called and I was a coward. I-I didn’t know how to pick up. I-I cou-couldn’t hear the voicemails but I couldn’t erase them. I-I-I, Alex, I-” she closes her eyes, her face scrunching up in distress. “I-I heard them all, Alex. I hear them all today.”

What? All of them? As in…

“T-This… whatever this was… gave me the courage to h-hear them, Alex. That’s why I came to you… I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know.”

Kara…

“I’m so sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry! You’ve called and called and I was such a coward! I was so afraid you’ll hurt me again… I ended hurting you. I never knew… why did you stop calling, Alex. Why?”

Oh.

You used to call her in your darkness moments. In your weakest hours. When the pain got too much. When the tears won’t cease. When the will to live fled your bones.

You used to call her to talk. To cry. To laugh. To beg. To brake. To ease a little of the anguish that threatened to consume you. To try, by any luck, by any smile of the gods, to see if she’d answer you once.

She never did.

But you kept calling.

Until you didn’t.

Until the thought of crying to a machine sickened you to the point of vomit.

Until you realized calling and being ignored hurt much more than admitting to her how much you still care.

Until you were captured and you learnt to hate your own voice.

Until you stopped making a sound, until you simply gave up.

You don’t remember when was the last time you called. Alcohol always mixed with the calls and you haven’t drunk in over a year.

Lucy made sure of that.

“I’m such a bitch, Alex… I-If I had picked up, if I’d swallow my pride, this wouldn’t have happened! You wouldn’t be a slave for the DEO, for the president. W-We could still…”

You frown at that. You could what?

Almost as if hearing your thoughts, she whispers, “… we could still be together. Rao, Alex, I still love you so much.”

You gulp. Kara is engaged. Kara’s wedding is in three months.

Kara still loves you.

She’d never lied to you.

Oh, how you wish she started now.

And she’s looking at you with wide eyes, with blotches cheeks, with trembling lips, with a broken heart.

“Kara…”

Your voice is scratchy after moths of disuse. Your throat aches with the bruise Kara left behind. And you cringe, feeling the panic creep into your chest. You feel your lungs start to constrict. You feel the lights dim.

There’s a reason you don’t talk anymore.

But, seeing how her eyes shine, how her breath catches…

The panic attack doesn’t take hold and you force a little smile on your face.

And you take your hand again.

And you climb besides her when she sobs out.

And you curl up in her arms, her tears soaking your hair.

And you clutch at her suit, not ready to hug her yet, but needing to be close.

This is far from perfect.  This is far from resolved.

But it’s a start.

You close your eyes, basking in the warmth you denied yourself long ago.

No. This is not fixed.

But you love her.

And now that you know she loves you too, you’ll fight for her.

You’ll fight Adam, and Astra, and Non, and Cat Grant, and Hank, and Lucy… and yourself.

You love her.

You need her.

She is yours.

And you are hers.

Forever.


End file.
